[ Well. This turned out to be quite the bloodbath, hasn't it.
Kaz's giveover of the weapon and the command to find a healing potion is practical enough, but with broken ribs and a bruised lung (hopefully not punctured) on top of a half-concussion, things are slow going. He grapples with his new tool and grits through the pain to keep himself moving, but things have gone halfway to hell by the time he's dislodged himself enough to shift under the weight of that fallen cabinet.
It's difficult to disperse his attention among the proceedings. More than anything, more than the injuries or the conflict or the damage, what hits Venom the hardest is the simple understanding that this is nothing that any of them wanted: not Kaz, not Nyx, not Dorian.
Under normal circumstances, none of this would be happening. That's gutting. ]
—Kaz.
[ He can't speak properly over the vice in his chest, the physical fracturing that distorts his calm baritone into a hoarse rasp. There's still blood in his mouth and fog in his vision, but he somehow manages to scrabble at his hip holster for his remaining nonlethal firearm (his assault rifle is long gone, probably broken in that original blast); the Windurger's safety clicks jovially upon release, and Venom makes a mental apology as he turns it on Nyx (a tough shot, but not one he can't make) and fires off three consecutive rounds. Do tranquilizers even work on magic users? Will it even hit, is also the question, but there's no use in not trying.
What he's anticipating in this aftermath is a wealth of guilt on Nyx's part, not to mention Dorian. That's something much harder to field than a combat situation, and as he bites back the nausea that the kickback of his pistol sends through his bruised insides, he makes a mental note to tell them not to take any of this too personally.
(Impossible, probably. He knows how kind both of these people are.)
First things first, though. They have to get out of here alive, so up he goes, despite the protest from his bones and the heartbeat-alarms ringing in his ears.
He's calm when he lines his next shot with Dorian's shadow, levels that tranq dart at his neck and shoots with the intention of it at least being a distraction. ]
no subject
Kaz's giveover of the weapon and the command to find a healing potion is practical enough, but with broken ribs and a bruised lung (hopefully not punctured) on top of a half-concussion, things are slow going. He grapples with his new tool and grits through the pain to keep himself moving, but things have gone halfway to hell by the time he's dislodged himself enough to shift under the weight of that fallen cabinet.
It's difficult to disperse his attention among the proceedings. More than anything, more than the injuries or the conflict or the damage, what hits Venom the hardest is the simple understanding that this is nothing that any of them wanted: not Kaz, not Nyx, not Dorian.
Under normal circumstances, none of this would be happening. That's gutting. ]
—Kaz.
[ He can't speak properly over the vice in his chest, the physical fracturing that distorts his calm baritone into a hoarse rasp. There's still blood in his mouth and fog in his vision, but he somehow manages to scrabble at his hip holster for his remaining nonlethal firearm (his assault rifle is long gone, probably broken in that original blast); the Windurger's safety clicks jovially upon release, and Venom makes a mental apology as he turns it on Nyx (a tough shot, but not one he can't make) and fires off three consecutive rounds. Do tranquilizers even work on magic users? Will it even hit, is also the question, but there's no use in not trying.
What he's anticipating in this aftermath is a wealth of guilt on Nyx's part, not to mention Dorian. That's something much harder to field than a combat situation, and as he bites back the nausea that the kickback of his pistol sends through his bruised insides, he makes a mental note to tell them not to take any of this too personally.
(Impossible, probably. He knows how kind both of these people are.)
First things first, though. They have to get out of here alive, so up he goes, despite the protest from his bones and the heartbeat-alarms ringing in his ears.
He's calm when he lines his next shot with Dorian's shadow, levels that tranq dart at his neck and shoots with the intention of it at least being a distraction. ]